


You Can Never Best an Orc

by CollarsAndCurses



Series: The Skye-rim Chronicles [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Ghorbash is respectful and loves his boyfriend, Height Differences, Kissing with Tusks, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Neck Kissing, Nightmares, Orc Culture, PTSD, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Relationship Negotiation, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Frustration, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Size Difference, Sleepy Cuddles, Trans Male Character, Without the Hurt really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-04-28 18:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollarsAndCurses/pseuds/CollarsAndCurses
Summary: - But you can join him.Skye and Ghorbash have been friends since they began travelling together and both want something more, but are too stubborn (or just plain clueless) to realise it. Then a trip to the smallest, coldest city in Skyrim results in several romantic cliches and makes them finally admit their feelings. Unsurprisingly, it goes pretty well.





	1. Chapter 1

Ghorbash often wondered how a small, Dunmeri mage had convinced him to leave his stronghold and travel Skyrim. The elf hadn't beaten him in combat, as was tradition for earning respect, but talked his way around the orc with sweet words and wisdom beyond his young, handsome face. He'd offered adventure, battle, the comfort of riches. It was always at this point in his wondering that Ghorbash would wonder why he wondered in the first place. He'd wanted a reason to leave and the Dunmer had given him more than just one. He would then wonder why he stayed and the answer would come in the form of memories, of both delight and defeat and tender moments between them that made it impossible to leave the elf’s side unless he was told to by the very man himself.

As it was, his companion - Dragonborn, Dovahkiin, Blood-kin to the strongholds, or just Skye; the Dunmer with a pretty face and running mouth that would both land him in trouble one day - didn't seem inclined to suggest their parting at all. In fact, in the four months they had spent together, they were rarely out of each other’s sight and had a slight panic when their separation was unexpected. Killing dragons together and being hunted by cultists can do that to two people. But it wasn't just the danger that kept them together; Skye was so eager to learn about everything, he let Ghorbash talk for ages about the history of his people, his tribe, and his own personal experiences, listening with rapt attention to each and every story. In return, Skye would share what he'd learnt and what interested him. Ghorbash couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such fascination with another person.

Their relationship rapidly changed from one of convenience to a steadfast friendship. Then, a question of something more blossomed, until one cold and otherwise unremarkable night it just had to be answered. It was after a long trek towards Winterhold, Skye’s desire to visit the college keeping him marching forwards with fire in his hands until his legs gave out on him with the college in sight. He looked about to cry when Ghorbash wrapped him in a fur cloak and scooped the Dunmer into his arms. He made him laugh with a half-hearted chiding about knowing his limits and not trying to best an Orc, managing to somehow keep the shivering elf awake until they reached Winterhold’s inn. The Frozen Hearth, quite appropriate.

Skye usually did all the talking, but this time it was up to Ghorbash to ask, with Skye only able to shove a handful of coins at the very understanding owner and offer him a weak “thank you”. He gave them the largest room with the warmest bed, then his wife brought some ale and a large bowl of soup to share, on the house she said, giving Skye a pitying glance and saying to just call if they needed anything. Despite still being swathed in the orc’s arms and shivering every so often, Skye had perked up enough to thank her and ask if she had any work. She said she would tell him after he'd eaten and had a good night's sleep. Neither of them could argue with that.

“Thank you,” Skye murmured once they were alone, looking up at Ghorbash with drowsy eyes and a dusting of purple-pink across his face.

Ghorbash shrugged. “Couldn't let you freeze.”

Skye hummed as if in thought, letting his eyes fall shut and resting his head on the Orc’s shoulder. “You're so warm.” Ghorbash could feel him smile as he mumbled against his skin. “You're always warm, it's so nice, you're so nice.”

 _The cold must have gotten to him. He has no idea what he's saying._  Ghorbash cleared his throat but said nothing, just sat down at the table - keeping Skye in his lap - and pulled the soup bowl close to them. Skye reached out for the spoon, but his cold fingers fumbled it before he'd even tried to scoop anything. Ghorbash sighed and took it from him before he could make a mess, but then hesitated, wondering if this was an acceptable thing to do. It was innocent enough, surely. Healers would feed people all the time, he was just doing what was best.

Shaking away any thoughts except making Skye well again, he readied a spoonful and held it to Skye’s face. “Eat.”

Skye took the spoon cautiously into his mouth, making a small noise of pleasure as he swallowed and pulled away. Taking that as incentive to keep going, Ghorbash gave him another spoonful of soup, and another, keeping it up until Skye urged him to eat some himself when the bowl was only one third full. He'd almost forgotten about his own hunger and eagerly drank the rest of the soup. It was good, flavourful, not the best but enough to keep his stomach satisfied.

When he put the bowl down and wiped his mouth, he noticed that Skye had gone still in his arms. He was still breathing, thankfully, but it was the deep and even rhythm of sleep, his eyes closed without wrinkles of discomfort at the corners. When he stood up, the elven ear not pressed to his bicep gave a flutter as it's owner sighed, shifting only to huddle closer to his chest, nuzzling against it like a babe might do. Ghorbash frowned as his stomach did something uncomfortable but not entirely unpleasant. _Damn elves._  His brother had always said they could charm your armour off, but Ghorbash had been thinking actual spells, not… whatever was making him feel that way about Skye.

He removed most of the Dragonborn’s armour and then settled him on the bed before he could think about it anymore, swapping their snow-damp furs for the ones provided. The dunmer curled up and buried himself in the blankets, apparently very content with the arrangement. Ghorbash watched him for a moment, until he was sure he hadn't woken him, then headed for the chair again to get some rest of his own. Or he would have, had a now warm hand not grabbed his wrist.

“Where do you think you're going?” Came Skye’s voice, muffled and drowsy.

“Sleep,” Ghorbash replied simply, but he did not make another attempt to move.

He heard Skye sit up, the hand on his wrist travelling up his arm. “Then why do you turn away from the bed?”

He nodded at the chair, and although Skye didn't say anything, he knew by the soft huff that he disapproved.

“But I'm cold,” he protested.

Ghorbash glanced over his shoulder, letting Skye know that he'd seen him swathed in blankets and looking decidedly warm. “No, you're not, you have furs.”

There was a pause, and then Skye gave his arm a squeeze. “Join me anyway?” He asked. “Please?” That last word, the little plea that conjured a sad, pouting face in the orc’s mind…

With a deliberately heavy sigh, Ghorbash turned and motioned for Skye to scoot over and make room. Unlike most people, Skye seemed positively ecstatic to be sharing a small space with an orc twice his size. He watched Ghorbash remove his own armour with a grin, unable to fully sit still until he had pressed himself as close as he could to his companion’s body - which was unavoidably close, considering the size of the bed. He would ask if Skye wanted to strip out of his wet robes, but he knew the dunmer would refuse, so he let it be and hoped the owner wouldn't mind a slightly damp bed. Snow was probably a better cause than most, he supposed.

There were no entwined legs or arms across each other; as per usual, they simply shared the same space and warmth, with Ghorbash on his back and Skye’s back against his arm and side. It wasn't unpleasant, he supposed. It certainly _was_ warm, and having someone to literally guard your back as you slept was comforting enough to make up for the lack of space, but Ghorbash was used to that from the stronghold. In fact, it was sort of a welcome familiarity, reminding him of his early years when he would dream of adventure. Although, none of his dreams had ever included this.


	2. Chapter 2

Skye was a fearsome warrior in battle, with pin-point aim and impressive command of his magic; he would climb mountains and stand his ground. In bed, he was much the same. In spite of starting with an equal amount of space, Ghorbash awoke the next morning to find himself up against the wall and with a Dunmer for a blanket. He snorted at the way Skye’s hair sat askew at all angles like a bird's nest, but even the movement of his chest didn't wake his sleeping companion. A part of him didn't even want to wake the poor thing - he'd been through a lot, he needed his rest - but the other part of him was thirsty, stiff and needed to piss.

Luckily, Skye was a heavy sleeper in the mornings. Ghorbash sat up, supporting the Elf as he moved out from under him and then put him back down against the pillow. Still out like a light. Typical. Although, that did make him wary about leaving him alone - anyone could come in and kidnap or rob him, or worse. He slid Skye’s Elven dagger under his pillow before leaving the room, ordering a jug of water on his way to relieve himself and then picking it up on the way back. Efficiency and multitasking; his mother would be proud.

The room was no different when Ghorbash returned - Dunmer soundly asleep, dagger in place and empty mugs on the table. He placed the jug next to them and put Skye’s dagger back with his other weaponry, before finally waking him.

Skye murmured and grumbled in Dunmeri after the first few shakes of his shoulder, but the last had him open his eyes and roll onto his back.

“What time…?” He asked, still too sleepy to finish the question.

“Eight,” Ghorbash replied, offering Skye a cup of water when he sat up.

They drank in a comfortable silence for a few moments. Orcs rarely conversed when eating or drinking, so as usual it was Skye who spoke first, albeit quietly and mostly into his cup.

“Thank you, for last night.”

Ghorbash could swear the Elf was blushing. He had to hide the smile it brought to his lips with another drink. “You would do the same.”

Skye snorted at that, “No offence, but I don't think I could carry you.”

Ghorbash snorted back. “Of course not, you can't even lift my warhammer. But if you  _ could _ , I know you would.”

“I  _ could _ use magic,” Skye countered. “When I learn telekinesis at the college, I can lift you up with just a wave of my fingers.” He made vague wiggling motions with the hand not holding his cup, a natural but somewhat restrained smile lifting one side of his mouth.

“So, you really want to be a student, huh?” Ghorbash asked.

Skye’s brows furrowed in thought, then he sighed. “I just want to be what I want to be. I want to learn magic and be respected for it, not just follow the path other people want for me.”

That was a notion Ghorbash was all too familiar with. “And what would that path be?”

“Some rich wizard’s trophy wife.” The answer was laced with spite, but Skye gave him a small smile afterwards.

He didn't need to question the ‘wife’ part; it was no secret between them that Skye was born and raised as a girl. His parents had let him cut his hair and change his clothes once he was of age, but they never really stopped treating him like a daughter who was going to be traded off to another family one day. Orsimer weren't so strict with their gender roles, but Ghorbash could understand people treating you differently because of things you can't change. The tribe never took him seriously in his wishes; before he left to join the Leigon they assumed he was jealous of his brother, then when he returned they only allowed so  _ because _ of his brother, the new chief. It was infuriating, he was constantly torn between regretting leaving at all and regretting coming back. He could only imagine how much worse it was for Skye - he still didn't like anyone seeing him without at least two layers of clothes on to hide his figure.

“You're not a trophy,” Ghorbash assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Too rough around the edges.”

Skye chuckled, which Ghorbash counted as a successful attempt at comforting (something he was still working on as a whole concept, let alone executing it). Then the Elf went quiet, his gaze dropping to the floor before he looked back up at Ghorbash. There was almost something sad about him - the way his lip was drawn in between his teeth, nervous like the constant movement of his hands, fiddling with cotton hanging from his robes - but his eyes still had that same determination, that same hope they always had even when he was prepared for the worst.

Ghorbash raised an eyebrow at him, a silent, expectant question. He knew that look. Skye wanted something and wasn't sure how to ask. The only way Ghorbash could get him to open up was to appear open himself, first.

It nearly wasn't a surprise when Skye’s feet slipped off the bed and onto the floor, letting him close the distance between them. Without hesitation he let a hand rest on Ghorbash’ shoulder and then pressed their lips together, just for a moment. It wasn't their first kiss - that had been after a particularly tough battle with a dragon, when emotions were high and they were covered in blood and Skye had never looked so gorgeous. Or maybe Ghorbash just hasn't noticed. Maybe the Orc values had been so ingrained into him that battle was the only way he could see someone as a potential partner. Whatever the reason, he didn't dwell on it long.

In fact, he couldn't dwell on it long, because Skye had soon returned to sitting on the bed, babbling apologies as a flush spread across his face and out to his ears, turning him that shade of purple-red so unique to Dunmer.

“I’m sorry I-I shouldn't- I mean- fuck, I know you said you don't mind but- I just- I'm sorry.” His head was in his hands by the time he went quiet.

It was… awful to see him that way, apologising for having feelings as if Ghorbash could never reciprocate, never even  _ think _ of him as desirable in a physical way. Although it had never come up in conversation so the kid had no idea, to Ghorbash, Skye’s fears were rather unrequired - nobody could say he wasn't attractive  and he certainly made for good company. If asked for, or offered, something more than their friendship, Ghorbash was a little embarrassed to admit that he wouldn't refuse.

Only embarrassed because it wasn't lust that made him want his companion, but this deep rooted  _ care _ that he didn't quite understand. Feeling something even  _ you _ couldn't decipher made it near impossible to express to anyone else, a problem that was becoming increasingly obvious, as much as it was ignored. Ghorbash told himself that he didn't say anything because he respected Skye enough to let him decide when they became intimate, kept telling himself it was the right thing to do, but judging by Skye’s reaction it was possibly coming off more like tolerance than respect.

But, instead of starting a conversation about the dragon in the room, Ghorbash simply gave him a pat on the shoulder and said, “It's alright,” in a tone a little less caring than he had intended. He cleared his throat and tried again, with slightly more success. “Let's get you to that college, hm?”

Skye sighed and looked up - thankfully without any puffy eyes or tear tracks - then managed something resembling a smile and nodded. “Sor-”

Ghorbash cut him off with a hand over his mouth. “Next time you say that, you’d better have set me on fire first, got it?”

His eyes widened a little, ears drooping in a way that made Ghorbash want to see what he would do if he grabbed his jaw or pressed a thumb to those plump lips. Hey, just because his feelings were driven more by emotional care than physical wants, it didn't mean that Ghorbash hadn't  _ thought _ about doing… certain things with Skye,  _ to _ Skye. He kept those thoughts for private moments though, so he let go of Skye completely, giving him the chance to nod again before promptly getting up to gather his things and make a pointed effort not to look at Ghorbash until his face had returned to its usual colour.

Ghorbash gave him his wish, collecting his own equipment and armour and focussing on their reason for trekking all the way up to this frozen hellhole. It would make Skye happy to meet those fancy magical bigwigs, and seeing him happy would be its own reward.

 

Their leathers and boots had been drying overnight by the hearth and so were blissfully warm over their underclothes, something Skye in particular seemed to appreciate. Praise Malacath he could conjure a portable fire at will - he needed it something fierce, he was always cold. Once dressed, they ate a breakfast of bread and cheese before heading outside and up to the college.

It was an impressive building, made only more so by the fact that it was teetering on the edge of a cliff over a half-frozen sea. No matter the rumours and hate towards the mages, you had to admit it was a damn imposing sight to any potential threat - perhaps even a dragon. An Altmer woman greeted them, asking Skye to prove his magical capabilities before she allowed them through. The task was a menial display, a simple spell using only an inch of Skye’s true power, but he completed it with modesty and humble thanks towards the other mage.

They - or rather, Skye - met students and teachers from many different races and backgrounds. They even had another Dunmeri student and an Orc as their librarian. Yet, Ghorbash was still treated as some sort of bodyguard who couldn't even read. But he didn't say anything to the contrary; better to be ignored than bombarded with questions or watched like they were just  _ waiting _ for you to slip up. He got enough of the latter back home. His mind wandered to home as they physically wandered around the college. What would his brother think of him now? Would the others want to exile him again? He supposed it didn't matter - the more time he spent with Skye, the less he considered going back to the stronghold.

“And this is where you will be staying,” their guide told them eventually - a Breton woman, well spoken. “Any other questions?”

“Not for the moment,” Skye replied, positively beaming. “Thank you so much for showing us around, I can't wait to start as an actual student.”

The woman chuckled, then handed Skye a book. “Well, if you're so eager, here's a little light reading to get you started. I'll see you first thing tomorrow in the main hall.”

Skye thanked her and they each gave a polite nod before she left them to settle in their new quarters.

“There's no bath.”

To most, that would have been a little bothersome - an extra walk to clean off in the student shower room, no relaxing soak after a hard day's work - but for Skye, it was enough to turn him pale as moonlit clouds and make his voice waver. Ghorbash walked past him to examine the room further. Small, full of magical crap, a door that's rotting at the hinges and probably held in place by some sort of spell. Definitely no bath, though, or private shower. He'd expected mages to be a little too introverted for a public shower, but then again everyone seemed that way to an Orc who bathed in a river alongside anyone who happened to be doing the same thing.

With a sigh, Ghorbash returned to Skye’s side. “Want me to find one? Ask someone?” Surely they'd have a tub around  _ somewhere _ in the college, wouldn't they? Or was it some strange law that mages only showered? Honestly, some of them were so peculiar that it wouldn't be a surprise if it were true.

Skye took a moment, then shook his head. “No, no, I wouldn't want to be a bother. I'll just- I'll go to the showers once everyone else is asleep, and you can stand guard outside, right?”

He looked so hopeful, Ghorbash almost didn't roll his eyes before replying. “Do you really have to ask that?” 

The tilt of Skye’s head said that yes, he did.

“Of course I will,” Ghorbash assured him. “What sort of companion would I be if I didn't?”

A grin broke through the worry on Skye’s face. “One who wouldn't get a hand warmed sweet roll.”

“Trying to bribe me?”

“Depends, is it working?”

Ghorbash paused, pretending to be considering things, then half-rolled his eyes again. “You're lucky I have a sweet tooth,”  _ and that you're damn cute when you want something. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooookay this now has more plot than I'd intended it to have, so there's more planned chapters and I've moved some things around (not that it'll be a difference to you guys because you didn't know what I was going to do! You'll just get more Ghorbash goodness)


	3. Chapter 3

Cross legged on a wooden bench wasn't the most comfortable sitting position, but when you're trying to look casual whilst waiting outside the showers, comfortable isn't always an option. Skye had begun diving into the book Mirabelle had given him, letting himself be absorbed into its pages as a distraction from his nerves. He shouldn't have been nervous, really - there wasn't a curfew inside the students quarters, so he could shower when he liked, and Ghorbash was there to keep watch - but the sneaking around reminded him of being back at home wearing pants under dresses, or when he first left and his greatest fear was ripping his clothes.

He glanced at Ghorbash and found himself smiling, but quickly flicked his eyes back to the book, lest he make things even more awkward after what he'd done that morning. Ghorbash said it wasn't awkward, that he didn't mind, but Skye couldn't help feeling terrible about it. Not minding isn't the same as being enthusiastic. He “didn't mind” going to dinner parties but he would have rather been at home in bed, he “didn't mind” cabbage but he preferred carrots. Gods those analogies were stupid. The whole thing was stupid. Ghorbash was older than him and he wasn't even being paid to stay, he could leave if Skye came on too strong.

That still didn't help the prickle of embarrassment across his shoulders, though.

He kept his head buried in a chapter about conjuration magic and its connection to the conjurer, focussing on soaking up any new information about arguably his favourite school of magic. It was the most useful, in Skye’s opinion - you could create anything, make it a separate entity or an extension of yourself, connect to the realms of oblivion and summon weapons, beings, all thrumming with an otherworldly power. He was also planning on using it in a… project, of sorts. A private project that involved conjuration and alteration and possibly illusion, but Skye wanted to avoid the latter if he was able - after all, what's the point of making something or altering something if you’re just going to use an illusion? You can’t  _ feel _ an illusion.

Skye flinched at the closing of a door. He looked up and was met by a smile from one of his fellow students, the last to leave the showers. He returned the expression briefly, waiting until Onmund had gone to another room before he stood up.

“I'll be quick, I promise,” he said, piling his book and robes into Ghorbash’s outstretched arms, leaving him standing awkwardly in just a shirt and trousers with a rolled towel clutched to his chest.

“Take your time, I’ll wait for you, right here,” Ghorbash assured him, taking up position by the doorway.

Skye gave him a smile of thanks, then dashed past him and closed the door. No lock - good thing he had Ghorbash with him. The shower room wasn't as large as he was expecting, with only 4 cubicles and a couple of sinks below a large, cracked mirror that was still clouded from the steam. It didn't look particularly inviting, but at least the showers had curtains, so he wouldn't feel so completely exposed. He picked the least damp cubicle and slipped inside, checking several times that the curtain was all the way over before he settled down enough to get ready. There was a hook for his clothes, a rail for his towel, and several vials and bars of soaps and oils on a shelf.

The consideration that one might not have brought their own products was appreciated, but Skye never travelled without his own lotion - one that he created with a gorgeous fresh scent that wasn't too flowery or overpowering. He unrolled his towel and took out a clean robe and underthings, as well as the vial of soap. He took a deep sniff, smiling to himself as he put it on the shelf. Clothes hung up out of immediate splashing range and towel neatly over the rail, Skye slipped out of his underclothes and turned on the water. Dwemer engineering was a marvel; noisy, with shuddering pipes as the water made its way up, but definitely one of Skye’s favourite things, especially when it came to warm showers.

He shivered at the first splash of cold water on his head and shoulders, but it soon became delightfully warm. Skye hadn't liked showers when he was younger, they were a boring necessity, but now he appreciated the private time, the way he felt soft all over and so wonderfully clean afterwards. Feeling clean was a rare commodity when you spent most of your days travelling and most of your nights sleeping under the stars. He rinsed his hair quickly, then set about lathering soap over every inch of his body, washing away the grime from their trip up to the college; blood from wounds he hadn't noticed, the dirt gathered in his hair and stuck under his nails. He wasn't as clean obsessed as his mother, but some of her habits had rubbed off on him.

Something his mother would absolutely not be proud of, however, was the way his lower body tensed at the touch of his fingers along his inner thigh. It was an innocent gesture, a natural part of the cleaning process, but it made him freeze, blush, consider, then do it again in a slightly less innocent way. It wasn't the most ideal environment, but this could be the only  _ real _ privacy he would get for a while… surely it would be better to just… deal with it? Right? It might even help him stop pining over Ghorbash, and if it not, then at least it might help control any more urges.

The stone was cold on the flushed skin of his back as he braced himself against the wall. He let his head drop back and closed his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths as he slipped a hand between his legs. The first touch made him shudder, fingers sliding through the light covering of hair until they found sensitive folds of skin, wet with something other than water. Skye had never been one to moan when pleasuring himself, but he put a hand over his mouth just in case. He couldn't trust himself to be quiet when Ghorbash was right outside, when he could decide to come in at any moment. That thought in particular sent a throb of arousal down to meet Skye’s fingers. The idea of Ghorbash seeing him like this, so needy, so desperate - he'd probably leave, but maybe he'd take pity on his poor companion, turn Skye around and push him against the wall, fuck him until he couldn't walk, those tusks leaving marks on his neck-

Skye’s legs tensed, toes curling as he rubbed himself faster, chasing the warmth pooling below his stomach.

-Or maybe they'd be on his lips, the two of them chest to chest with his legs wrapped around that strong torso and hands on those muscular shoulders, clinging to him for dear life. He'd never had anything inside of him before, but he was sure Ghorbash wouldn't hurt him, he knew whatever the Orc did would feel good and even if it didn't he wouldn't care.

Unfortunately, his solo efforts only led to frustration, sensitivity turning to numbness and almost pain before Skye finally gave up and pulled his hand away, panted breaths and a sore wrist the only things to show for it. He rinsed his own lubrication from his fingers, frowning as if it was their fault. It kind of was, but that was childish to even think of. He just wanted something to blame, now that he was annoyed at not being able to finish and disgusted for even trying, not to mention that his clit was still begging for attention that Skye couldn't provide. Damn it. Well so much for a relaxing evening.

Heat ran over his body, the shower almost feeling cold as he tried in vain to rinse away that stupid fantasy and the feeling of touching himself to it. After shutting the water off and waiting for the pipes to stop shuddering - just in case the day would get any worse and it would be him who destroyed the plumbing - Skye scrubbed himself dry with a towel, hanging it over his shoulders when he was done to stop his hair dripping everywhere. He pulled on his clean clothes and grabbed the rest of his belongings, practically storming out of the shower room on unsteady legs.

Ghorbash was still waiting outside, loyal and diligent as ever in a way that lifted his spirits, just a little. A smile found its way to his lips as he greeted his friend.

Yet instead of returning the greeting, Ghorbash frowned. “Shower too hot?” He was clearly trying to joke, but his expression remained unchanged.

Ah... Skye realised all too late that he probably looked to be in a real state; flushed from the chest up and trembling from the waist down and probably still a little sour even though he tried to seem otherwise. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

“You alright?” Ghorbash asked, no longer trying to joke.

Skye answered with a strong contender for the most unconvincing “yes” of his life. It almost sounded like a bloody  _ question _ and made Ghorbash frown even more.

“Something happen?” He pressed. “Someone say something, do something?” He glared over Skye’s head and into the shower room, as if daring any pervert hiding there to come out and face him.

His concern was reassuring, flattering even, but Skye really just wanted to go back to his room and sleep.

“I'm fine, I promise.” He was more convincing this time, glad he couldn't blush any darker when he placed a hand on Ghorbash’s thick, bare forearm. “It probably was too hot, I much prefer warming my own bath compared to relying on those Dwemer contraptions.” That was true, enough so to convince Ghorbash that the heat was the only problem - or at least relieve enough worry for him to stop asking and join Skye in returning to their room.

Skye warmed a sweet roll for them each, as promised. He was glad that Orsimer were comfortable with silence; he didn't particularly feel like making light conversation that evening, especially when a dozen ridiculous topics were clawing at the back of his throat. He'd already made enough of a fool of himself, even if he was the only one who witnessed it.

Then he had a rather sudden realisation. There was only one bed. He was frustrated and horny and would have to sleep in a small space next to the person who made him feel that way. And the worst part? Ghorbash would probably know the moment Skye was brave enough to look him in the eyes. Actually, that reluctance was likely giving him away already. Gods why couldn't he have chosen a woman to travel with.

College was proving to be a lot more stressful than he imagined, and not in the ways he anticipated.


	4. Chapter 4

Something was off; Ghorbash could tell that much. But exactly what? Skye was doing a fairly good job at hiding that detail. Usually, he was obvious, he would rant or grumble to himself when they were alone, not expecting help or advice but just wanting someone to  _ listen _ . He was more Orsimer than Dunmer, in that respect - he got mad, let off some steam, then it was over. But this staying quiet, avoiding eye contact, staring at the floor as if it would offer an answer. That was something Ghorbash didn't quite understand.

He watched Skye nibble at his sweetroll, knowing he must be hungry - having not eaten since breakfast - but he was either too distracted or deliberately restraining himself. Perhaps, he hoped that if he took long enough to eat, he could avoid whatever was troubling him. It wouldn't work, of course, and Skye knew that, but it was probably the only thing he could think of. Still, if he didn't say anything, nobody could help. No point trying to wrench it out of him, that would just cause arguments.

After finishing his own snack, Ghorbash set about cleaning his warhammer. It hadn't been used that day, but it was always good to keep your equipment polished and ready. His eyes flickered to Skye every so often as he worked, watching him finally put away the last crumb of food with a look of regret, then pick up a book and stare at the page. He evidently wasn't reading, his eyes barely moved and he didn't turn the pages anywhere near consistently enough. Looks like the arguments were needed this time. Damn mopey Elf.

With a sigh, Ghorbash put away his weapon and turned his chair so that he faced Skye completely - even though Skye ignored him completely as he did so. “Alright, out with it.”

Skye hesitated, his lips parting slightly. He looked at Ghorbash, then back at his book, then shrugged. “Out with what?” He was good at persuading other people, but when it came to his own problems, he was possibly the worst liar Ghorbash had ever met.

“Whatever it is that's making you so sour.”

Another shrug. “Nothing. I'm not sour.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I'm not.”

This was ridiculous. Ghorbash stood with another sigh and promptly whipped the book out of Skye’s hands.

“Hey!” He protested, “I was reading that.”

“And now you're not.” Ghorbash sat on the end of the bed this time, only a couple of feet away, locking Skye into the conversation. “Now talk.”

Skye folded his arms like a moody teenager, slumping back in his chair with a pouting frown. “There's nothing to talk about. I'm fine.”

Ghorbash’s lip twitched irritably. “That's not an answer-”

“Well now you know how it feels!” Skye’s voice cracked at the end of his outburst and the telltale glint of tears caught the light in his eyes. He sniffed and wiped them away on his sleeve. “If you don't want me to say I'm fine, then you can bloody well stop saying it yourself.”

Was that… really what all this was about? He was in a mood because Ghorbash used the word “fine”? Another quiet sniff had him meet Skye’s watery gaze.

“You don't even know what I'm talking about, do you?” The Dunmer’s expression fell from anger into this kind sadness. “Of course you don't,” he muttered, drawing his knees up to his chest as he looked away. “Why would you? Why would anyone?”

It hit him, then, what Skye was so upset about. He saw it in the blush that crept across his dampened cheeks, the way he worried the cloth of his tunic between his fingers, the shame - he could put a word to it now - that made Skye shrink in on himself, waiting for the worst.

If Skye was anyone else, anyone in the entire world, Ghorbash would have told him he was being ridiculous and pessimistic, that he needed to suck it up and stop worrying about things like words or what they mean. But this was Skye, the Dunmer who looked far too weak to be out on his own but knew he could burn down an entire forest if he wanted to, yet still got nervous over feelings and words and asking for what he wanted. This was Skye, who had walked into his life as a soaked, quivering mess and made himself a permanent fixture within moments. Ghorbash really couldn't imagine being without him - which was when he realised that it was likely for the same reasons Skye hadn't stormed out yet. His brother was right, he was going soft. But who could blame him?

“I apologise,” Ghorbash said eventually, earning him a rather shocked expression. “I didn't want to make things difficult between us, didn't want to say something wrong.”

Skye’s ears dropped, brows furrowing and lips turning downwards as he nodded.

“We don't talk about these things, at the tribe,” Ghorbash continued. “So when you want to talk, I don't know what to say.”

Another sad nod told Ghorbash that he was definitely saying things wrong and Skye didn't understand what he meant  _ at all _ . Malacath help him.

The Orc took a deep breath and mustered all the emotional expression he'd been told to bury as a child. “So, I'll let you talk, and ask, and I won't say fine. I promise.”

Now Skye looked confused. He tilted his head in this way that was undeniably  _ cute _ , made Ghorbash smile without really thinking about it, but then Skye smiled back and he made a note to do it more often.

“Have I upset you?” Was the first thing Skye asked.

Ghorbash had to keep his reply to a short and sincere “No” to avoid getting into another argument about how Skye shouldn't worry so much about what other people thought.

Skye looked coy before he asked the next question, biting his lip as he sat forwards and let his feet drop back to the floor. “Do you like me? I mean-” Skye paused, cleared his throat as his blush spread out to his ears. “Being with me-  _ travelling _ , travelling with me.” He trailed off, as if the purple-pink reaching his neck had silenced him.

Ghorbash snorted, but smiled. “Yes.” He only just resisted calling Skye a fool for thinking otherwise. Then instead, he added, “to all of those.”

Skye nodded, another question evidently fighting to be said, answered, but for a few moments he couldn't quite say it. “When we- when I kiss you, is it… good? I mean do you- do you like it?” His gaze stayed set on the floor the entire time, his voice regaining that tone of sadness, of shame. Even after everything.

It probably didn't help that Ghorbash, too, was unable to speak when he first tried. His own cheeks felt hot, the sensation creeping down his spine as he answered. “Yes.”

Suddenly, Skye was glaring daggers at him, lips twisted in a frown. “Then why did you never kiss me back?” He leant forwards. “And I don't mean just sitting there I mean  _ really _ kissing me, hugging me,  _ anything _ to show that you ca-”

As soon as Skye was close enough, Ghorbash seized the moment and did just as Skye wanted him to. He wanted to pull him close and kiss him until he couldn't argue for lack of breath, lips and tongue numb from affection, the affection Skye craved and Ghorbash wanted to give, though perhaps not as innocently. That thought was what made him pull away, give Skye a chance to breathe, to push him away and tell him to go.

Skye only did one of those things - the breathing part - but after that he did something unexpected. He gave Ghorbash a quick whack across the chest, making a rather disgruntled face through his burningly bright flush.

“I didn't mean now!” He hissed. “I wasn't done talking. I was going to make you feel bad.”

“You already had.” Ghorbash shrugged. “I figured since I'm not that good with words, I'd show you.”

Skye somehow turned an even darker shade of scarlet. “Yes. Well. You could have  _ tried _ to tell me.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Skye managed a smile, then he admitted quietly, “I liked it. But you probably knew that.”

“Would you like to try again?” Ghorbash asked, rising from his seat and holding out his hand as an invitation, an offering of peace.

Even after all of that - even after Ghorbash had been the one to kiss him, after he’d admitted his affections the best he could - Skye’s face still held a look of bemusement. He didn't hesitate, though. He stood and took the Orc’s hand, eyes wide with both hope and nerves. It was adorable, truly, and beautiful, those huge, dark pools of red turning candlelight into stars. Ghorbash hoped he would soon find the words to tell Skye how he saw him.

Instead, he fell back on showing rather than telling; but this time he made each movement, each moment, each look and touch count like it was the last. He took Skye’s face in his free hand, tracing the soft lines of his jaw and the point of his chin. He let their noses just barely touch, lips almost brushing and breaths meeting between them. The Dunmer's face was warm against his palm, pulse beating fast as a deer fleeing its hunter. He pressed his forehead to Skye’s, breathing him in, savouring the reality of having him there, willing.

Ghorbash hadn't quite realised how much he'd craved this until it was happening. Now, he never wanted it to end.

Skye had closed his eyes by the time Ghorbash kissed him proper, so he made this little gasp when their lips touched. Ghorbash didn't take advantage of his open mouth just yet; he wanted to take things slow, make this last. He let his tusks press against Skye’s cheeks, smiling into the kiss when he shivered. Lovers always like the tusks. Skye kissed him back harder after that, a hand wandering up to rest on his shoulder and squeeze, just slightly, as if to reassure one or both of them.

Once Skye had settled, Ghorbash darted his tongue out for just a moment, a teasing lick that earned him another surprised little sound. He did it again and that time Skye hummed, practically purring when he tried it for himself. Both of them tasted sweet, from their meal and somehow underneath that, too. Something about it was slightly addictive. It wasn't until they were both near completely out of breath that their mouths parted, lips tinted red and shiny-wet with saliva. They panted, then smiled, then Skye laughed breathlessly and wrapped both arms around Ghorbash’s neck.

“Okay, okay,” he murmured, still chuckling. “I think we understand each other now.”

He nuzzled the tusk closest to him, then pressed a soft kiss to it, humming to himself as he often did when pleased. Usually it was over food, but Ghorbash didn't mind what he was being compared to. He kissed Skye’s temple, then his cheek.

“You sure I don't need to show you again?”

Skye giggled, then gasped when Ghorbash’s kisses reached his neck and turned into sucking and nibbling. “Maybe you do,” he breathed, tipping his head back to expose his throat, surrendering himself in a way Orsimer only did when old or in love. “Again, and again, and again…” His words trailed off into a quiet moan. The vibrations of it reached Ghorbash’s lips and he sucked a particularly large bruise where they felt the strongest.

“I don't want to keep you up.” He murmured, licking over the blossoming circle of red. “You have classes tomorrow.”

“I have stamina potions,” Skye whispered. “I can go all night.”

Most people would have taken that as an invitation to do something… more. But Ghorbash knew Skye wouldn't be ready. He could tell by the waver in his voice and the little nervous laugh that bubbled up afterwards. It would ruin things, things that were perfect just the way they were. He lavished Skye’s neck with one last line of kisses, grateful that Skye’s robes would cover the mess of hickeys and tusk marks he'd left across his dark skin.

Skye’s ears twitched as he lifted his head. “Why'd you stop?”

“Wanted to check in,” Ghorbash said, trying to sound serious and caring at the same time. He wasn't sure if it worked. “This good for you?”

“More than good, so much more than good.” Skye kissed him again, standing on tiptoes. “Although, perhaps we could get a little more comfortable? You really are quite tall.”

“Or maybe you're just short.”

“How dare-ah!”

Skye yelped when Ghorbash picked him up by the waist. He placed Skye carefully on the bed, then settled next to him, close but not touching.

He raised an eyebrow. “Better?”

Although Skye frowned, he was evidently trying to hide a grin. “We really need to work on your verbal communication.”

“We'd need our mouths free,” Ghorbash pointed out.

Skye answered him with a quick peck to the lips. “Maybe tomorrow, if I can keep my hands off you.” The way he bit his lip suggested he would have blushed, if his skin hadn't already been a lovely, deep shade of reddish purple. “Class is going to be torture. I hope you know that.”

Ghorbash snorted, then pressed a gentle kiss to Skye’s forehead, nuzzling at his face and taking a deep sniff of his hair. He smelled wonderful, not just because of the shower but his own scent was divine.

“You don't have to do these classes, you know,” he said. “You're an incredible mage.”

“One without any standing,” Skye countered. “If I can prove myself here, I'll be respected, people won't ask for more proof once I mention the college.”

All this mage crap was a mystery to Ghorbash, but he nodded anyway. He knew how important it was to have the approval of others to get by in life; he had to work hard to convince everyone to truly let him back into stronghold after he left. He didn't need to, but he wanted to, wanted somewhere he could  _ belong _ . The more time they spent together, the more it felt as if he and Skye were becoming less different than he'd first thought.

He gave Skye another kiss on the forehead, then his nose. “You'll do good. I know you will.”

“Thank you,” Skye murmured, lifting his face to let their lips meet.

Ghorbash had always expected that Skye would be the submissive type, but he knew for sure when he let himself be coaxed onto his back and have Ghorbash leaning over his smaller frame, little sighs saying that he was clearly happy with the position. He'd have to remember that, especially if Skye ever wanted to go further. Orcs got a bad reputation from the few who weren't brought up with proper damn manners; the comfort of your partner was important, you treated them right - for life or just for a night - and all equal no matter how many you had. His brother had several wives and loved them all, cherished them all, just the same. But for now, Ghorbash could put all his attention on Skye. He didn't even care if it stayed that way. In that moment, Skye was everything to him.

Said Elf whimpered softly, as if he knew what Ghorbash was thinking. It drew his attention back, made him notice the way Skye had his eyes squeezed shut and how it wrinkled his nose a little, too. He let his own eyelids droop to focus on the scents and tastes and touches. Skye's hands found his shoulders, narrow fingers roaming over the muscles; mapping them, exploring them, so lightly it made Ghorbash shiver in a good way. Skye kept feeling, touching, until one hand tangled with the braid at the back of his otherwise clean shaven head. He wrapped the hair lightly around his fingers, a smile quirking his lips as they kissed. Ghorbash buried a hand in Skye’s own thick, black locks, keeping him close and taking his chance to deepen the kiss when those gorgeous, purple lips parted in a shy moan.

There was a certain lack of finesse in the way Skye used his tongue, but it was no less enjoyable. And besides, now he would have someone to practice on, whenever and as much as he wanted. Which would be often and a lot, if Ghorbash had any say in the matter. After realising Skye was a fairly quick learner, it only made him want to teach him more, show him the ways someone could make him feel good. He slid his other hand under the Dunmer’s back, rubbing circles into his spine to match the way their tongues moved around each other, exploring and tasting. Skye was sweet on the inside, too. He tasted different to Orsimer, but not the same as a human. Maybe it was an elf thing; they were so close to fae, that it wouldn't be a surprise if they tasted of honey, or some other natural delicacy.

Skye clung to him, trembling, his back and hips arching off the bed just slightly. Ghorbash could tell what Skye wanted, or what he thought he wanted, but he still wasn't ready. He was too desperate; he needed a gentle hand who would stay with him, give him constant attention in little ways until things naturally went further. Ghorbash had been that way once, when he'd bedded his first and she'd left the morning after. He vowed he would never make anyone feel that shame, the self-hatred that she left him with. It was a mistake that he wouldn't let Skye experience, as long as he could help it.

Though when Skye began to actually shake, Ghorbash carefully pulled back. Skye tried to follow his lips with his own, letting out a sad sort of whine, but Ghorbash nudged him back gently with his forehead.

“Calm,” he murmured, pressing a long, grounding kiss to Skye’s cheek. “I'm not going anywhere.”

He felt Skye take a deep breath, relaxing as he exhaled. His eyes were near all black when he opened them, pupils blown wide, giving him the look of a cat, playful and nervous in equal measure. He swallowed, then sighed again, before letting his arms drop to his sides. Ghorbash missed their warmth, but he stayed in place.

“Sorry,” Skye glanced away as he spoke. “I haven't really done this before. I don't know what I'm doing.”

“You're doing good.” Ghorbash kissed his other cheek, feeling it prickle with heat under his lips. They needed to communicate, Skye was a talker and Ghorbash knew that now, he needed to tell him everything. “You're beautiful,” he murmured, feeling his own ears grow hot.

“Beautiful?” Skye repeated, his voice so quiet and wavering.

“Yes, like stars and fire.” Ghorbash knew that wasn't eloquent enough, that anyone else could have come up with something better. But what's the point in lying about something like this? Trying to be someone he wasn't? “You’re strong,” he continued, running a hand through Skye’s hair. “And kind.”

“But I lie to people.” Skye was barely able to whisper, his eyes glistening again as he turned to the side. “I lied to _ you,  _ how can you still think I'm kind? How can you still want me like this?”

“Because it changed nothing. I promise you.” It had been a slight surprise, yes, but Ghorbash never felt any anger, anything except a stronger desire to protect the man who had told him his deepest secret, and a trust between them that he would never break. “An Orc follows to the death.”

Skye looked up at him. “Then I hope we never part.”

Ghorbash smiled, and Skye smiled back even as tears wet his cheeks. Ghorbash wiped them as gently as he could with the wide pad of this thumb.

“I apologise if beautiful was not the right word.”

Skye bit his lip, then shrugged. “I’m just happy that you thought to say it. Somehow, I don't mind so much when it's coming from you.”

“I'm glad,” Ghorbash replied, not really knowing what else to say to that. Not anything that he could voice, anyway. “Tell me if I ever say something wrong.”

“I will, but I doubt I'll have to.” Skye lifted a hand to play with his braid again, lips still curled happily. “Unless you try to convince me that wine is better than mead.”

Ghorbash scoffed, pressing a quick, playful kiss to Skye’s lips. “Do you know who you're talking to?”

“A wonderful, attractive Orc?” Skye’s cheeks regained their blush, but he didn't look away, nor did he have time to begin apologising as Ghorbash kissed him again, so he sighed instead and relaxed back into his new lover’s arms.

They stayed like that for a while - kissing and murmuring to each other, hands petting hair and body alike - until Skye broke away for a yawn and Ghorbash convinced him that he really should get some rest.

For the first night, instead of beginning their sleep together barely touching, Ghorbash curled around Skye as Skye buried himself against Ghorbash’s chest in return. He felt protective, his chest swelling with warmth whenever he focussed on Skye’s weight against him, his soft breathing and even softer hair. This wasn't how he had expected the evening to go, but as he too drifted off to sleep, he knew he wouldn't have it anyother way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHA how did I ever think this would be a two-chapter pwp? Here's the almost finale to this sappy, sappy story about my son and his future husband. Maybe the next chapter will have something a little more deserving of the E rating, who knows. Either way, I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! If you did, Kudos and Comments are very much appreciated! Thanks for reading.


End file.
